


Latest Orders

by kohiya



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: ... and Scarlet notices, M/M, Rufus abusing his authority for sexual favours, Tseng is good at following orders, and apparently administering said sexual favours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-24
Updated: 2010-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kohiya/pseuds/kohiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That’s an order.” The president, now sprawling ever so casually on his chair, is gazing askance at him, waiting, as though commissioning his bodyguards for sexual favours is nothing more than a regular occurrence. Perhaps it is, and Tseng has been blissfully unobservant for all these years. Perhaps not.</p><p>Tseng, at a loss for words and not sure words could change the situation anyway, silently begins to remove his suit jacket.</p><p> <br/>His father saw the Turks as nothing more than Shinra's dogs, but Rufus has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Latest Orders

It wouldn’t him do well to forget that Rufus Shinra – for all the new president’s bravado, self-assuredness and what was almost unanimously seen around the Shinra headquarters as ‘narcissistic arrogance’ – was still a young adult. Not really so much more than a child. And children were prone to making mistakes.

At times it was all Tseng could do to not question his superior’s judgement – those brash decisions the young heir saw fit to make without so much as consulting another prior; all those angered outbursts that had earned Rufus his less than favourable reputation among the other workers. But duty stilled Tseng’s tongue more than restraint ever could, even if the expression on the president’s face seemed to, at times, speak more of a child than a ruler – that of a child’s macabre fascination with magnifying glasses, light sources, small insects and firsthand acquaintance with death and murder. 

But never, _never_ would Tseng let his personal feelings or doubts get in the way of his duty to the president – to do as much was to stoop to a level of unprofessionalism Tseng would never allow of himself. He had always thought as much and trusted himself to stand by it – even amidst the president’s more controversial rationale – that was, until his latest orders.

“Pardon me, sir?”

“You heard me.” Even despite the order, Tseng would have been distantly amused to note his superior turning away to unzip his pants – had the situation catered more for his amusement. “Suck it.”

“Sir—”

“That’s an order.” The president, now sprawling ever so casually on his chair, is gazing askance at him, waiting, as though commissioning his bodyguards for oral sex is nothing more than a regular occurrence. Perhaps it is, and Tseng has been blissfully unobservant for all these years. Perhaps not.

Tseng, at a loss for words and not sure words could change the situation anyway, silently begins to remove his suit jacket.

* * *

Those that say the Turks are like Shinra’s dogs would be right on the mark.

Always waiting blindly for orders from their master. One step behind you all the time; just waiting and watching. Good, loyal animals.

That was all my father saw them for. Nothing less, nothing more.

And that was where he was wrong. Yes, the Turks are like Shinra’s dogs… but who says they can’t be more? Why couldn’t they be?

They are there… they will always be there. Why not make better use of them? If nothing else, Turks are certainly disposable.

Tseng’s good. Surprisingly good. Makes me wonder whether he’s done this before… well, not so much. More how often he’s done this before. He makes for quite the pretty picture, too – kneeling between my legs and sucking my cock as though it’s all that he has left in the world.

Yes… whoever said that the Turks are like Shinra’s dogs were right. Mindless, loyal animals, but you can’t help but love that about them.

Tseng’s hair is soft and silken to the touch. I can feel his consternation underneath my fingers – it radiates from him like a sickness. He makes a faint, muffled noise as I force his head down further – part gasp, part something else – and continues in his administrations.

Whether or not Tseng has done this before is all but confirmed upon my climax, he making no hesitation to swallow the evidence of the deed. It doesn’t surprise me – my Turks lead colourful lives and there’s no reason Tseng should be any such exception. I like that about them.

He finally looks up at me, dark brown eyes inquisitive as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, but says nothing. It seems like he’s waiting for me to give him more orders. A smile quirks my lips as I realise, somewhat belatedly, that he is.

I could tell him to fuck me right here, right now, and he would do it. Never mind the board meeting that starts in this very room in ten minutes – he would do it. Oh how I love my loyal, mindless, dependant dogs.

“Get out.”

He gets to his feet, righting his shirt and putting his suit jacket back on. This look is one of definite reproachfulness but Tseng knows that to say anything in defiance is to cross the sacred invisible line and that line is one best left un-toed by him – by anyone.

He leaves.

Heidegger, bless his heart, is the first to notice something missing.

“Where’s your puppy dog? Off chasing a stick?”

Scarlet gives me a _look_ \- a look that whispers of womanly wiles and infinite wisdom and knowledge of intimate happenings behind closed doors – but she remains silent. It’s nice to see the woman has some tact in her life, if not in her wardrobe.

“I don’t care,” I respond, and I don’t need to try overly hard to convince myself of it, either. Scarlet coughs lightly behind her hand and ignores the glare she earns herself in response.

The meeting progresses on.


End file.
